Southern California is in the midst of Weather. Our annual week of Rain Like Fucking Hell and then no more rain for a year, which results in many accidents “ZOMG RAIN!!” and flooding because our ground does not absorb water. This coincided neatly with my drive to San Diego today. Luckily, I have an AWD vehicle and I spent four years in Virginia. So I understand rain, how it gets you wet and makes my hair sad and poofy. I can drive in rain. It’s a lot like driving in no rain, but you turn your headlights on and pay fucking attention to the fucking road, stupid hookers.
I was supposed to be at the appointment at 12:40pm to fill out reams of paperwork. My appointment was at 1pm. I arrive wet, poofy haired, and cranky at 1:05pm. Within 5 minutes I was hurried to an ultrasound room and anally probed lubed up. The tech was nice, talked to me throughout, and confirmed my suspicions about the presence or lack thereof a penis and balls*. Egg stared at the screen, then at the lady wanding my belly, then back at the screen with a slack-jawed WTF look.
When she was finished, she told me that I’d need to come back in a month for a better look at the baby’s spine and heart and the doctor would speak to me then. As she was about to scoot out the door I indicated politely that I needed a doctor right the fuck now. Unnecessary ultrasounds aside, I needed to talk to a doctor about my brain meds. Hence the hour and a half drive through pouring rain, past two big accidents (one involving a semi) with a toddler, a teenager, while pregnant. She ushered me to an unused room and told me a doctor would be with me shortly.
The doctor came in during a diaper change, which I believe is the new cigarette if you are waiting for something to happen. We discussed the Elavil and he said that I would need to meet with the genetic counselors at my appointment in a month. They would “do research on The Internet” and give me the results of what outcomes are possible. Here’s where I started to look around for something sharp and stabby. I’m going to PAY someone to ask the innernets what happens when pregnant women take Elavil? In a month?
I indicated that what I needed was not research but a prescription for Elavil. I told him that my OB and shrink had handed this off to his practice. He said that he could not prescribe me ANYTHING because he didn’t know my history, and my OB and shrink were the best people to get medication from at this time. He also stated that I was confused about the nature of this visit. He said that he couldn’t sign off on any medication, and that I had to take responsibility for deciding to take a medication while pregnant. Which I would bloody fucking DO if I had a prescription pad in my fucking hand.
And here is where I started to pack up my shit (Egg had emptied the diaper bag, his purse, and his spare bag during this conversation) while beginning to cry. I thanked him for his time and could not even look him in the eye I was so angry, frustrated, and CRYING like a little bitch. And I continued to cry, through the office, in the elevator, into the car.
As I write this post, I am still scheduled to see my shrink tomorrow morning. I don’t know if she will give me a new prescription for the increased dosage of Elavil. I have 50mg on hand to take tonight. And that’s it. Perhaps a trip to Tijuana, Mexico is on my to do list for this week. Because fuck me if I know what else to do if tomorrow’s appointment fails.
*I’m not telling yet if it is girl or boy.